Kodyack vs. Franco

Lyrics

[Round 1: Kodyack] I guess it's up to Kodyack to explain that you lame bro But in the land of little bitches I bet they call ya' King Franco I got an insane flow, and well you just ain't got the propane to flamethrow And you about as hip hop as a fucking rainbow That's why I get fresh Man I ain't seen dude this stressed since Keebler the elf handed him a piss test And the bitch failed, you spit frail And you got a pussy so that, makes you a chick male I rap with respect and yet you doubt my honor You look like Mega Man, without the armor Talking about him Looking like the bitch from Alpha Dog, without shins And they trap and you say that I'm a fat bitch And, my watch is bigger than the backpack you associate your rap with And, maintain that, and I just don't understand ya' But I'm your boy when you lost your job and we were both like "Fuck Santa" Spin the world, twist into a- [Round 1: Franco] Everything he said was irrelevant, about my devilish skeleton and arrested development When he looks the anal baby from a Mexican elephant Grew its double chin when it was crossbred with a pelican You don't do sex 'cause you're celibate Fuck this guy, nothing he said was ever intelligent Your flow is trash, and every ho you ask to go and tax Kodyack, knows you're wack Look at homie's back the note attached says he's gross and fat but I coulda told you that, from looking at his photograph I'm telling you bro, your ass is a mark Go back to fucking Yellowstone National Park I don't think the people stare, or if they'll even care But you're the reason there's a sign that says 'Please don't feed the bears' All you eat is pears, and I look like Steve Colbert And you look like you became morbidly obese and shaved your hair You look like Horatio Sanz, somewhere between and the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man, I spark hella jams I seen you in the dark and you ran You got pissed on more times than R. Kelly's fans [Round 2: Kodyack & Franco] Alright Franco, I'm getting tired of ya' flow I'ma bust in my hand and I'ma Spiderman ya' ho I'm crazy, I bring it grimy You think you got a big dick 'cause yo' hands is extremely tiny Fucker, quit the West Oakland ain't been in the hood since You're hella fucking fat, for a wood nymph Pink skin and pointed ears on that Elijah Wood tip Wondering if you could spit And that's cool let's see what ya' beef bring But you so short when you take a shit ya' feet swing Matter of fact, you can't rap with me There's a telephone book as a stepstool when you have to pee Tragedy thinking you bad as me I don't even know why you came to battle see Fucking, try to match me, come stab me Little Timothy's just pissed off 'cause I murdered Lassie And I'm rapping it on Matter of fact I take that back, it's Calvin with no Hobbes And I'm attaching with no odds You're the size of one of my testicles and, that's just kinda odd [Round 2: Franco] You wanna manifest those raw bars instead you'll fall hard, the truth is for the west you're not hard And you'll never guess how large Francesco's balls are Ever since you got kicked out the Fresh Coast all-stars You hung out in Modesto where your friends throw lawn darts Look at this fucking baboon, he spent so much time in the bathroom Tryna shit bigger than me, that it turned his fucking ass blue Some people, say I'm an asshole Yo, I think you need to get the zookeeper to come, clean out in between this fucker's fat rolls His shirt says the Black Crows, but I freestyle and you can't rap 'do You asking me, I trace your whole family tree, and your fucking camp's extinct So how can it be, that the world's last manatee, is at Grind Time West Coast when he should be chilling on Miami Beach? This dude is shitty You think your crew is witty 'cause you're from Union City? You're a dude with, titties, you should be, the president of the fucking boob committee I don't think your ass's got nothing left Ass hunter-ass, your freestyles ain't fucking fresh [Round 3: Kodyack] Quit hitting the fat jokes and lay off of my health boy And leave rapping to presents, elf boy Man, I'm Kodyack big boy, I'm dwelling in hell's kitchen And you don't even gain weight 'cause you at KFC just, smelling the chicken It's fucked up, I'm always hitting my belly I'll smoke yo' ass like some of that shitty Humboldt, Cali green Mad at me, and that's cool hit me like on a fucking bitch verse of a manatee That's cool, Dirty Rat, you more like a fucking, filthy pygmy mouse And you so pussy next time you battle better bring a bouse- blouse Shit wrong I ain't tripping Flip flows like Chris Pond and I ain't scripping Hit flows I'm gon' hit him, they littler than me Spit different ill so they ain't skilling with me And Franco, fuck you, times two, rhyme through Any motherfucker I come and defy you And, I spit words and I see pain And, your shoes remind me of something I would wear on my keychain And- [Round 3: Franco] How do you know so much about my track record, what you need to do is rap fresher I'd give you a Dirty Rat sweatshirt but we don't have extra extra extra extra extra large you fat heifer You'll get your fucking ass severed Yo man, I come back and my flows are fucking that clever Me come wack never You're a dumb fucker cum-sucker I'll take your mom and buttfuck her Then I'll use your dumb slut as a fucking cum dumpster Franco doesn't give a shit My freestyles is ill, and you know I be killing it The code in the streets, you want it then go get a piece I smoke little trees, Humboldt to Oakland you see Roll with the heat and rock like Bo Diddley Throw guillotines it's killing him so willingly You flow shittily, I felt ya' show energy Here's two middle finger fuck you, you're no friend to me For infinity, this is Franco's soliloquy You'll remember me, they know, that you're feeling me 'Cause I step up with dope freestyle abilities Jump in the cipher then I'm moving with agility You look like Mr. T dipped in bleach tryna hit the Christmas feast, kid I'm here to kill your dreams